Elrond's Indignity
by BlueberryMuffins76
Summary: Lord Elrond & Lady Celebrian return from the Undying Lands for a visit some time after the War of the Ring. They put on a dance party & invite the Mirkwood elves. However, tension still lies between the two kingdoms. And a big Thank you to flyingarrow of CoE for beta-ing this for me. Let me know if the rating is too low; it was accepted as PG on CoE, which has stricter rules. Tnx!
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any Tolkien characters or places, even if I tend to lay claim on Thranduil! Please read & review!**_

Sometime in the fourth age, several decades after the War of the Ring, some certain elves who had retired to the Undying Lands decided to pay a visit to their former homes. Among them were Lord Elrond and his lovely wife, Lady Celebrían, along with her parents, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. Being the kind and generous elves that they are, they sent word to the last ruling elf in Middle Earth, Elvenking Thranduil of Mirkwood. While not entirely thrilled at their visit, he and his wife, Elvenqueen Arabesque, hoped that bygones would remain bygones and perhaps the elf rulers could learn to actually get along.

"Meleth, how about we hold a party at Rivendell once we have settled in a few days?" Elrond asked Celebrían, hoping Middle Earth had once more become the friendly and happy place it used to be long ago before they were married.

"Capital idea! We simply must have dancing, especially now that Manwë has taught us so many new moves!" she squealed.

Just then, her parents walked up. "What's this I hear about dancing?" Galadriel inquired.

"Naneth, we simply must hold a party at Rivendell! We shall invite all the remaining elves, including but not limited to Elvenking Thranduil and his people in Mirkwood."

"Good idea! We have some musicians from Lothlórien amongst us, and I'm sure they can help with all the new music and dancing!"

Celeborn smiled. "Whatever you ladies want is fine with me! You know I'm happy as long as my wife dances with me!" Winking, he slipped her a kiss, so Elrond linked arms with Celebrían and walked away.

A few weeks later, the elves arrived safely in Middle Earth and had a lovely trip back to Rivendell, full of memories both evil and wonderful. Galadriel and Celebrían had sent out all the invitations and elves had RSVP'd with great gusto. It appeared every single remaining elf would attend the ball!

Once the night arrived, Elrond stood beside Celebrían as they greeted their guests. Thranduil glided in with Arabesque on his arm and the Lord of Rivendell extended his hand. "Pleasure to have you, King Thranduil!"

A look of disdain flashed across his face, but the Elvenqueen nudged him, so he shook his hand. "Thank you for inviting us."

"Yes, thank you! I'm sure we will have a wonderful time!" Arabesque beamed as she hurried her husband to the dance floor. "A waltz! Our favourite!" Soon the happy couple held each other as they twirled around the floor, forgetting their worries and woes as they beheld only each other. The particular dance was called Ada's Kujawiak* and consisted of traveling around the floor in a counter clockwise manner. The Elvenqueen clasped her husband's right hand with her left and they waltzed four steps forward, then she twirled to face him on the fifth step, placing her hands on his strong shoulders. In this position they waltzed the remaining three bars of the measure, then rotated around each other counter-clockwise for four bars, and clockwise for four more. The process was repeated once, then a new sequence began. Waltzing forward three steps, on the fourth Arabesque pivoted on her left foot and turned Thranduil with her, quickly turning backwards with their hips pressed against each other. Some of the more common elven men would slap their left legs while lifting the up, supported by their female partners; however, Thranduil found this move rather undignified and instead moved his hands in time with the music, complimenting Arabesque as she did likewise.

As the last guest walked in the door and took the hands of the Rulers of Rivendell, they too joined in the fun, along with the Lothlórien rulers. "We should teach some of the new dances we learned!"

"After the tango, Meleth," Elrond assured his wife. Just then, the waltz ended and the musicians started up a slow tango, so he gathered her close and guided her up and down the dance floor, his cheek next to hers. Occasionally he would move his arm, which indicated to Celebrían to turn away from him in an individual spin. As she pirouetted back to him, he held her close and dipped her in order to sneak a kiss. Across the room, Thranduil did likewise with Arabesque. A random elf ran up and handed him a red rose, stripped of the thorns, which he immediately put in his teeth. His wife smiled up at him. He really was quite romantic when he chose to be! Stealthily spinning her around the room, they whirled out the door onto a little alcove. There he took the rose from his mouth and gave it to her. "For you, my Meleth!" he bowed and smiled up at her, then caressed the hand she held out.

Giggling, she snatched the rose. "Stop that! What will you do if someone catches us like this?"

"Well, how about this?" His arms crept around her, his face mere inches from hers. "I love you, Arabesque!" he breathed, then his lips found hers and a gentle and tender kiss.

"Mmmm!" she sighed as she surrendered to him. After a couple of minutes, she drew back. "Come, I want to dance some more! Put the rose in my hair, please?"

After obliging, he took her back to the dance floor.

As the music ended, Elrond stepped to the middle of the room. "Attention, everyone! My family and I have learned some new dances in the Undying Lands that the Valar suggested we teach you."

The crowd collectively the gasped, at least those who had remained in Middle Earth. The Lord of Rivendell laughed. "They have fun in the Undying Lands too, you know!"

Everyone chuckled at this statement and the light mood of the party returned.

A funky disco beat began, and Elrond demonstrated all the moves he knew. Thranduil rolled his eyes at the Lord of Rivendell's terrible attempts at disco. The elf looked like a dying starfish struggling for life on the beach, the way he was wiggling around as though his back was about to pop out of joint at any given second. However, the other elves found Elrond's moves quite good and cheered him on as they joined in. The Elvenking, rather unamused, strode towards the middle of the dance floor, not about to be outdone by a mere lord, who technically didn't even rule any longer. Winking at his wife, who joined him, they both wiggled their hips back and forth in time to the beat, swaying in opposite directions so as to lightly bump each other on every completion of the move. Then Thranduil started to bob his head up and down while doing the same with his right index finger. If you have ever tried this, it is something most mere mortals cannot accomplish. However, the Elvenking of Eryn Lasgalen, formerly known as Mirkwood, is not a mere mortal by a long shot and a highly proficient dancer, thus doing these three moves simultaneously is as easy as walking for him. The elves around him realized this and soon started clapping and cheering for him.

It was Elrond's turn to be unamused. He glared at his guest, whom he hadn't really wanted there in the first place, and tried harder with his moves. Celebrían and Arabesque stood to the side lines, trying to hide their smiles as they rooted for their men in friendly comradery. They knew a dance-off was about to ensue and anxiously awaited all the moves the elves would come up with.

Thranduil resisted the urge to smile as he increased his moves. He smoothly glided back and forth, keeping his feet together as he swished back and forth, still bobbing his head but changing his hand movements to the mashed potato.

Retaliating, Elrond attempted a shimmy but managed to look as though someone had tried to push him over and he was fighting to keep his balance on the edge of a precipice. His hands flailed everywhere as though he warded off a million insects trying to fly in his face.

Now the Elvenking had a sly grin on his face. He did three backflips in a row, causing elves to scatter this way and that. The audience clapped wildly, and Arabesque let out a shrill scream that could be heard over everyone else. "That's my Thranduil! Go, my Meleth!"

Such a reaction served to anger Elrond, who had an even deeper scowl on his perpetually grumpy face. He couldn't let someone from Mirkwood – excuse him, Eryn Lasgalen – who was always a lesser ruler, even if he did call himself King, to show him up in his own home! Throwing himself to the side, he tried to do a series of cartwheels. However, on the very first attempt, he ended up bending over like a folded blanket, resembling a dizzy ostrich with its head in a hole as he turned around. His futile attempts at cartwheeling were met with raucous laughter from all his guests, including his own family.

A line of elves formed to congratulate King Thranduil, who had a smug smile on his face as he stood proudly next to the Elvenqueen.

Indignant Elrond had quite enough. He motioned to the musicians, and the Hokey Pokey started. "This dance is called and is really easy, thus needs no explanation. Just follow the calls and it will turn out fine," he directed.

Somehow all the elven rulers ended up in the middle of the room with Arabesque flanked by her husband and Elrond. They all laughed as the caller told them to put their right hands in, which they did. Of course Thranduil had to add some hip swaying in there, so the Elvenqueen joined him and they bumped hips intermittently. They repeated with their left hands and both feet. The caller told them to put their heads in, and hair flipped and flew everywhere as all the elves leaned over and shook their heads. Laughing hysterically, they looked up and noticed everyone but Thranduil appeared a mess. Arabesque suspected he didn't actually follow the orders but ignored it. Then the final verse came. Everyone jumped in towards the very centre of the room and jumped back out, then turned around. Unfortunately, as Elrond and Arabesque turned they ended up too close to each other and crashed. Thranduil was at his wife's side in an instant and caught her before she injured her derriere. Elrond was not so lucky and fell ungracefully onto the floor, tangled in his robes and his dark hair falling all over his face.

"Are you alright, Meleth?" Celebrían shrieked as she rushed to his side, kneeling on the floor.

"I don't know…" he moaned, for his pride had been injured as well as his body. "Help me up and I'll see."

She helped him into a sitting position and he placed his hand on her shoulder, pushing himself up as the others around him offered their assistance. Once standing, he tried to put his weight on his left ankle and would have tumbled to the floor a second time had not he still been holding to his wife's shoulder.

"You are not alright!" she scolded.

"No, I think I have just twisted my ankle. I shall be fine in a few hours." With Celeborn's help he limped to a chair along the side-lines, disappointed that he could no longer dance with his wife.

Meanwhile, after ensuring the elven ruler had not sustained extremely serious injury, Arabesque started to cackle.

"Meleth, whatever is so funny?" the Elvenking inquired, looking rather concerned although not surprised.

The Elvenqueen shrugged, then held her sides as she continued to laugh.

Galadriel stared pointedly at Thranduil, who held her gaze without fear as she telepathically communicated with him. "I think your wife has had too much wine. You really need to watch her better."

"No, Lady Galadriel, she has not had any tonight and I have been with her the entire time we've been here. She's actually really embarrassed and concerned; this is a reaction she has to relieve the tension in the room. You know as well as I do that she would never make fun of another's pain!"

Just then, Elrond noticed the interchange and his face grew dark as he realized the Elvenqueen was laughing at his indignity! "Summon the Mirkwood rulers over here at once!" he directed Celeborn.

The silver-haired elf made his way to the middle of the dance floor yet again and exchanged his own private conversation with his wife. "Come, King Thranduil and Queen Arabesque, Lord Elrond wishes to speak with you."

Exchanging worried glances, they walked over to the side-lines and were met by a stony glare. "I thought we could get along better now, but I see how it is. Queen Arabesque, I must ask you to leave my home at once!"

"How dare you!" she screamed. "I have done nothing wrong! Bumping into you was merely an accident for which I am quite sorry."

"Humph. I demand you leave at once or I shall have my guards so kindly escort you out," he nodded to two elves standing nearby, ready to take action.

"Come, Meleth, we shall not stay where we are not wanted. Lord Elrond, I shall have you know you are not welcome in Mirkwood at any time. Anyone who insults and accuses my wife so rudely is no friend of mine." Taking her arm, he and the Elvenqueen strode out the door on their own accord.

"I would never wish to visit your nasty realm anyway, Thranduil!" Elrond retorted to the retreating form.

Once outside the doors, Arabesque exploded. "Who does that Elrond think he is, kicking me out like that? How dare he do such a thing! I am queen, after all, and he's a mere lord. You know I didn't knock him over on purpose!"

"Calm down!" Thranduil commanded. "I believe he's more upset that you laughed than the actual event. He just doesn't understand your reaction. I know you truly didn't think it was funny." Funny how their roles had just reversed; usually she was the one calming him down after a fit of anger!

"Well, he's supposed to be the wisest elf…maybe I don't want to go to the Undying Lands if it takes your wisdom from you like that!"

"Really? Are you sure you didn't have anything to drink, maybe a glass of wine behind my back?" he winked.

Punching him, she assured him, "No, just that delicious coffee punch. I didn't get enough of that, or enough dancing. I'm going back!" She marched away and pounded on the door. "Let me back in! I'm sorry! You know I didn't mean anything! You're not being a very good host…"

Rushing to her side, Thranduil grabbed her and turned her around. "Arabesque, please, you'll only make matters worse!"

"But he was so rude!"

"Come now, what did you always admire most in Lord Elrond?" he gave her his signature stare that meant business, and not the funny kind.

"That he had always been so kind to those who didn't really deserve it," she sighed. "Yet look at him now! Throwing me out isn't nice at all."

"No, but I would likely do the same thing if the situation were reversed."

"But that would be different! If that hoity-toity Celebrían tripped you up, I'd be throwing her out by her ear!"

"Arabesque!" he scolded. "You have to stop acting like this. Forget about it. How about we go home now?"

"No! I want to dance some more, and it's so much better with more elves, even if you don't like some of them." She banged on the door some more and was ignored.

The Elvenking shook his head and sighed, then settled on a stone bench a few feet away. This was going to be a long night. Since when did his wife get so stubborn? She was normally so sweet, gentle, & reserved.

 _*Yes, this is indeed a real dance from Poland, which you can find on Youtube._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any Tolkien characters or places, even if I tend to lay claim on Thranduil! Please read & review!**_

 **2: More Partying**

Several hours passed with the Elvenqueen pounding the door from time to time between resting with her husband. At last, the door opened and Celeborn appeared. "Elrond said to let you back in, but only if you stay off to the sides!"

"Thank you so much, Lord Celeborn!" Arabesque gave him a quick hug; he was Thranduil's distant cousin, after all. The couple followed him back inside where stranger dancing went on. The musicians played a peppy soft rock and all the couples did their own thing. Some bounced back and forth as though there were hot coals underneath their feet and they were trying to keep from being burned. Others kept their knees bent and lowered their centre of gravity by leaning forward as they turned each other under their arms, around each other, and even more intricate patterns of the hands and arms.

Lacing her fingers through his, the Elvenqueen guided her husband to a corner with few other elves. She vined and grapevine around him, and he turned her under his arm. Then she turned him. They kept at it, changing their moves every single measure. At last the music stopped and they made their way to a table laden with refreshments.

"No wine, Meleth!" the Elvenking winked.

"But that takes all the fun out of things!" She grabbed some coffee punch and a brownie, which she immediately bit into. "Delicious! Here, have a bite!" She stuck the treat in her husband's mouth and he bit off a piece, closing his eyes as he enjoyed its rich, chocolate taste. A small crumb stuck to the corner of his lips, and she kissed him to get it off. His eyes popped open in surprise. "What was that for?" he winked.

Giggling, she managed to cough out, "You had a crumb!"

"I'll have to remember that trick once we return to Greenwood!" He smiled, then turned back to the smorgasbord before them. After getting his wife a cup, he treated himself to some punch. Once they drained their cups, he led his wife back to the dance floor. "You feel better now, Meleth?" he asked.

"Yes. But I don't want to think about it. Just dance with me, please?"

Smiling, he gathered her in his arms. Then, an elvish version of ragtime started. "One of my favourites!" He grinned as he started to move with the beat in the Charleston kick. Waving jazz hands, Arabesque circled him and grapevine in and out. The music continued for about five minutes, during which they made up their own dance and had a wonderful time.

A line dance, "Flaxen-haired Maud", started; rumour had it that the idea came from South Gondor amongst the commoners, but since then it had been refined into something the more elite elves tried it, and enjoyed it greatly. As a couple dance, the dancers stood together and performed a series of kicks, toe and heel points, then travelled counter clockwise around the room. Then they turned each other around at least twice and started all over.

Galadriel stepped to the middle of the floor and motioned for the musicians to start. "The Cantaloupe Scuttle"* began as she sang and swayed to it. After one rendition, the instruments took over as she demonstrated the dance. Everyone clapped and cheered, then joined in the fun. Galadriel demonstrated by first shaking and kicking her right foot, then her left. Then came three stomps and quickly turning three-quarters of the way around. After that, she bent her knees and swivelled her body, then straightened and wiggled her hips as she clapped three times. Celeborn joined her and showed off by turning her and himself around intermittently, all while keeping up with the steps.

Arabesque laughed until her sides ached. Her husband quickly caught on to the hip wiggling, one of his all-time favourite dance moves (well, besides dipping his wife!). "Thranduil, I haven't had so much fun since our first wild party with Legolas!"

He chuckled. "Me either!"

Then a dance called "Bug Under the Rug" started. Five couple sets formed squares with one couple in the centre, who represented the bug under the rug. They interacted with each other by turning, figure eights, and even promenading around the middle couple. The dance rotated each pair until everyone had a chance in the middle.

Once the final round died away, Elrond's chair was placed in the middle of the floor. "The Chocolate Fondue!" he called to the musicians. Immediately some kitchen maids hurried to his side, carrying trays laden with chocolate dipped strawberries, marshmallows, bananas, and all manner of fruit. "No, the song!" he laughed as the instruments started a funky disco and he shooed them away.

"Oh, the chocolate fondue

How I love its hue

And when I look at it,

I always think of you"

Here he glanced lovingly at his wife, who grinned back at him.

The verse went on something like this, each getting sillier. As the elves bobbed to the beat, many got out on the dance floor and started their disco moves. Being the Mirkwood royals' favourite funky dance, they too joined the fun. Thranduil whipped out his trusty sunglasses, as did Arabesque, donning them even though they were completely unnecessary. His hips swayed back and forth to the beat, then he intensified the dance by adding some steps, clapping, stomping, and snapping at intervals. His wife laughed as she complimented every single movement, finally able to forget her anger at Elrond, relax, and completely enjoy herself.

Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas huddled together and discussed something, then turned towards the musicians and directed them to begin. The elves stepped up and joined hands as the music to Semmame** started. They felt the beat by bending their knees and bringing their hands around in a circular motion like the movement of the pinions on a train's wheels. Merriment shone in their eyes as the actual dance began, a series of heel touching and walking at first. The forward, clockwise direction stopped at the end of the first step as they headed towards the center of the floor and back in a repetitive step, which came after every single conclusion of any of the three steps. While the first step consisted of a simple heel touch and step, the second grew more complicated as the three elves did a series of three step-behind-steps. The third and final installment, a heel touch and slide, caused the crowd to clap and cheer, the single female elves in particular. Not to be outdone by his son, Thranduil joined the line, quickly followed by his wife. In full Elvenking style, he made the movement smooth, beautiful, and easy-looking. The onlookers oohed and awed over him, thus he stuck his nose a bit higher in the air while Arabesque attempted to hold back her giggles. As the upbeat tune faded away, the watching elves asked for an encore, and more joined on during the second round. When it ended, they were greeted by a last round of cheering and applause.

At last, Celeborn had his turn at all the fun. "My dear elves, Nessa taught me this rather interesting dance called The Lumbaro."*** He motioned to some elves who brought over two rather long bamboo shoots. "You will bend over backwards and look at the ceiling while passing underneath either of these branches. Those holding them will periodically lower them until you have to wriggle across the floor in order to pass underneath. If you fall down, you are automatically banned to the side-lines. Obviously, the last person to get underneath at the lowest setting is our winner. Have fun!" A peppy pop tune began as Lord Celeborn passed underneath the bar with ease, followed by his wife. A long line of elves wound all around the floor, laughing and joking. After about 20 minutes, they were down to five elves, naturally the elven rulers of Middle Earth. First, Celeborn wriggled under and lost his balance as he struggled to squeeze underneath the bamboo shoot. Galadriel followed suit and her husband pulled her aside, laughing. Then Thranduil and Arabesque were knocked out of the race. Everyone cheered as Celebrían bent over and began her journey underneath. Carefully twisting and turning her small frame, she wormed her way under the bar with ease and popped up on the other side, cheered by everyone. "Go, Lady Celebrían! The winner! Woot!" All rather immature and undignified if you asked those from Mirkwood. However, even they had to admit it was great fun.

Everyone danced, feasted, and sang long into the night, having a wonderful time.

The next morning, Thranduil and Arabesque headed home to Mirkwood. "Meleth, will you be alright now?" he asked as they rode.

"Yes, my Meleth. Thank you! That was rather childish of me to act up like that."

"I cannot deny that it was. However, you are adorable when you get riled!"

"Hey now!" she swatted at him as he drew near.

However, he leaned over towards her and placed his arms around her. "I wouldn't change anything about you for the world, Meleth. However, I would suggest you try to refrain from getting on Elrond's bad side again!" He winked and snatched a kiss before releasing her.

Their ride home was pleasant, full of more ideas for dance parties.

Back in Rivendell, the servants cleaned up the mess and rested while Elrond hobbled to his room. Celebrían sat by his side, her fingers woven with his. "Will you be alright, Meleth? It really was an accident, you know."

"Yes, I will be fine. It's just a sprained ankle. And yes, now that I've had time to cool down I realize she didn't mean it. But why on earth did she laugh like that? Really, that was the worst part."

"I'm sure I don't know! You're the one who's supposed to be extremely wise and has the gift of foresight!" she teased.

He laughed. "You're right! I should have seen it coming so I could've stepped out of the way!"

He recovered several days later and ended up much happier. Overall, their party had been the most fun he'd had since his wedding so many millenniums ago.

*Yes, I based this idea off a suggestion for the Watermelon Crawl!

** This can also be found on Youtube.

***Cheesy name, I know! But hey, in actual limbo you certainly make use of your lumbar muscles!


End file.
